


Broil

by yeaka



Category: TOLKIEN J. R. R. - Works & Related Fandoms, The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Established Relationship, Incest, M/M, Vignette
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-27
Updated: 2017-05-27
Packaged: 2018-11-05 17:31:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 589
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11018175
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yeaka/pseuds/yeaka
Summary: Legolas melts and nibbles.





	Broil

**Author's Note:**

  * For [legolasismine](https://archiveofourown.org/users/legolasismine/gifts).



> A/N: Fill for Legolas-is-mine’s “48 "You're getting crumbs all over my bed" Thrandola (Dom!Thranduil)” request on [my tumblr](http://yeaka.tumblr.com/) [from this list](http://yeaka.tumblr.com/post/160417565360/prompt-list).
> 
> Disclaimer: I don’t own The Hobbit or The Lord of the Rings or any of their contents, and I’m not making any money off this.

The house is a giant oven, and Thranduil kicks out of his dress shoes with relish. He has half a mind to shed his jacket and tie at the door, but he isn’t a cretin; there’s a proper place for them in his closet. He climbs the stairs with long, languid strides. It’s good to be home. Even when home is stifling. 

The door to his bedroom is already open, which doesn’t surprise him. It’s the coolest place in the house. Inside, all the windows are thrown wide, the small fan atop his dresser whirring and swiveling. Legolas is sprawled out across his bed, half propped up in pillows, white dress shirt half unbutton to expose creamy, flushed skin. Legolas’ long hair is practically glued to his neck and shoulders, a few stray strands sweat-slicked across his forehead. Worst of all is the remnants of a treat between his fingers. He thrusts what looks like the last bite of a cookie between his plush lips, then licks his fingers clean with deliberate relish. Watching him lap sugar off one long digit is akin to an entire porno.

Only because Legolas looks so wholly delectable, Thranduil doesn’t throw a fit. Instead, he mutters wryly, “You’d think after a few centuries, you would’ve learned some manners.” Legolas pauses mid-lick and glances for the doorway, half-lidded eyes somehow still round with innocence. Thranduil adds as damning evidence, “You’re getting crumbs all over my bed.”

Legolas shrugs his slender shoulders and proclaims in a sultry, silken purr, “Then we’re even for how you stained mine.” Thranduil’s brow rises. 

He steps properly into the room and muses, “How vulgar you’ve become, ion nín. I think you have been spending too much time with Elrond’s boy.”

As though Thranduil wasn’t the one to introduce them, Legolas teases, “Jealous?” His blue eyes light with mirth, lips drawing into a coy grin. It’s no wonder he’s learned to get away with so much: he’s so wholly _beautiful_.

Thranduil admires that but still moves forward. He sets one knee on the bed and hikes easily over Legolas’ lap, bearing high above him, still taller and broader. As Thranduil arches down, Legolas’ breath hitches, and Thranduil purrs across his lips, “I have no need for such foolish emotions—I already have everything I want.” Legolas grins against his mouth and mewls into the kiss.

Thranduil can taste the butterscotch. The last of them, he thinks, if he knows his little imp, although now that he’s finished his business for the weekend, they’ll have time to bake more. His hand comes up to cup Legolas’ soft cheek, thumb brushing back along the elegant tip of his ear. Legolas moans happily and presses harder into him. When Legolas pulls away, Legolas tries to follow, begging in a breathy whine, “ _Ada_...”

But Thranduil merely sits straight again and commands, “Now... I think it’s about time you did some laundry.”

Legolas pouts, deliberately cute, then morphs into a full glare more befitting of his years, but neither work. Thranduil remains firm, and Legolas must know by now that he’s to be obeyed, or no rewards will come. Finally, Legolas mutters a bitter, “Yes, Ada.”

But then he darts a fist to Thranduil’s tie, and he jerks Thranduil forward for it, stopping right before Thranduil’s lips to purr, “But then we really should share a shower to wash off all this sweat... I fear I’m dirtier than either set of sheets.”

Grinning hungrily, Thranduil concedes, “Agreed,” and gives his beloved leaf one more kiss.


End file.
